The Stars Can Burn Your Eyes
by TeamManHands
Summary: Completely AU. Rachel Berry is a jewish girl in Nazi Germany and she needs help. And help's last name is Hudson. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

April 1st, 1933.

She was walking home after a long day of school, like she usually did. It was like a ritual. Everyday after school, she would walk to her father's store with her childhood friend Noah. It was three in the afternoon, so it was not that cold but it was not that hot either. The weather was almost perfect. At least something was near perfect right now.

Being a Jewish girl in Germany in times like these was not easy. She knew that she had nothing to complain about, her family taught her to be thankful for everything she had, but she was not going to be thankful for this. Germany was being incredibly unfair to the Jewish people so far, but obviously, she wouldn't complain. If she did, they would take her daddy away. And she didn't want that.

The eleven year old girl walked down the streets with her hands shoved in her pockets, appreciating the little things around there while the boy jumped in all the puddles, splashing water all over the place.

"Noah!" The little girl hissed, tearing the water away from her uniform. "That's not a very pleasant thing to do. Your mother is going to rip your head off if she finds out you are getting mud all over your uniform." She warned him, gaining mud stains on her uniform skirt as a response. "Saukerl!" She hissed, speeding her rhythm and walking faster than him.

Noah Puckerman. That was his name. He was her best friend ever since they were five, when he "accidentally" pulled her braids and called her short. Five minutes later, Rachel had him on the ground, while she took a handful of sand and stuck it in his mouth, taking two teachers to separate them. Minutes later, they had to stay after school at detention, when they got to know each other. Instant friends.

"You know you love me." He smirked, running his hand in his curly hair and receiving a snort from the tiny girl.

"Please." She rolled her eyes playfully at him. "Hurry up! I want to get some candy at daddy's store and you are slower than a turtle, Puckerman!" She teased, jumping in a puddle in front of him, making his uniform wetter. "I bet I can get there first!" She smiled with challenge in her eyes.

"Get ready to buy me a candy bar, Berry, because you are about to be defeated!" He smiled, pushing her out his way and running in front of her.

Once they got to her father's store, they sat on the stairs of the church in front of it, trying to catch their breath again.

"You…Cheated." He said, breathing heavily.

"Just admit it… I'm…Better…Than…You!" She giggled, her hands resting on her skinny knees. Rachel stopped the giggling when she heard loud cracks and shouts. "Puck!" She poked him. She watched him open his mouth to say something, but her hand flew to his mouth and made a sign for him to be quiet. "Listen…" She said, with wide eyes.

They got up slowly and walked towards the store, being guided by the yelling and the glass breaking noise. They looked carefully from behind the little wall and watched everything go down. Rachel's father was inside the store, while two older men threw rocks at the store's window. She could smell the fear coming out from her father, but she didn't even move. How could she? What would an eleven year old do against two old men with rocks in their hands? Nothing. Like everything else back then, all she could do was swallow her pride and watch everything get destroyed in front of her. Her lower lip trembled with anger, and she could feel the hot tears forming in her eyes when she saw her father hiding behind the counter in order to protect himself from the rocks and broken glass. She watched everything break down, painfully slowly, while her father trembled in fear behind the counter.

Once the men stopped throwing the rocks on the store's window, she wiped the tears away and ran inside. Her father was still kneeling with fear in his eyes, so she quickly ran to him and kneeled beside him. The broken glass cut her thin skin and she could feel the sharp pain, but she couldn't care less. She hugged her daddy tight and sobbed against his chest.

"Shh…" He calmed her, rubbing her skinny back. "It's going to be okay, dear. It's all going to be okay."

Daddy was wrong.

So wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I decided to continue this one, so enjoy!**

* * *

"But, but _father!_" The young woman spoke quietly, her knees pressed against her chest as she breathed quietly in the dark, no further sound around them.

"No _buts, _Rachel." Her father cut her, resting his hand on her shoulder and looking deeply in the daughter's eyes, even though it was dark, he could see the pain written all over her face. "We've been hiding for three years now. I'm so tired of hiding, baby doll, aren't you?" She pursed her lips, looking at her feet.

"But what about _you?_" She tried to reach for his hand in the darkness.

"I will be fine sweetie, I promise." He took her hand and kissed it lovingly. "You know I'll always be with you…" He smiled, touching her heart. "Right here." He told her. She let tears fall free from her eyes, shaking her head desperately, tugging on her father's shirt.

"No daddy, no! That is not the same thing!" She sobbed. "I need you alive." She eyed him with despair. "I-I need you to help me with school stuff and-and I need you to be there when I get married and… Daddy, don't you want to see your grandchildren?" She sobbed harder. "Please, please, come with me!" She pouted, feeling her father's cold hand touching her cheek lovingly.

"I can't, sweetie. You know I can't. We are lucky enough we've got this for you and I won't let you ruin it Rachel. You've got a life before you and well, I lived a lot, actually. But if you keep praying for your daddy, I'm sure everything will be alright." He smiled. "Now, you'll be staying at the house of a family of a war friend of mine. He has passed away recently, so I think you shouldn't bring that up so soon. Also, everyone living in their house right now is their only son and the widow, so there will be plenty room for you. You'll have to be in the basement though, we can't risk you getting caught… The woman will be here anytime soon and honey…" He took her hands again. "I promise, when this whole mess is over, I'll find you." He smiled, kissing the tip of her nose as they heard someone opening the door, the light creeping in the tiny stuffy room with no mercy, burning their eyes. Rachel clung on her father's shirt with all the life she had in her now so tired fists, burying her face in his clothes as a feminine voice could be heard.

"Hiram? Is that you, dear?" The voice asked and Rachel could sense her father's warm smile creeping on his lips.

"Carole! Come in, fast, fast!" Hiram whispered, pulling her by the hand inside and locking the door behind them. "I cannot thank you enough for being here, hon. You know how much our children mean to us, and I just really want to make sure that Rachel will be okay." Hiram said with a sad smile, caressing Rachel's hair, who still hadn't let go of her father's clothes. "She is a bit scared, that's all." He said softly. "Sweetie, it's okay. Carole is the woman I told you about. She'll be taking care of you now." He kissed Rachel's brown hair with a smile.

"The light… The light, it hurt my eyes, daddy." Rachel spoke, rubbing her eyelids with fear. "How am I supposed to go out if I can't even stare at the light? It's partially noon by now! I can't. We'll have to go another time, I'm sorry. Thank you for coming-" Rachel tried pathetically, being interrupted by her father.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, this time, you won't get it your way!" Hiram hissed so no one outside would hear them. "Look at me." He pulled up her chin. "You are going and you'll be safe, because if I die, I want to die being sure that my daughter is going to be safe somewhere." He looked in her eyes, kissing her cheek. "Now go. I love you and if I manage to get it somehow, I'll write for you." He told her, watching Carole taking her hand and leading her through the door, but before leaving, Rachel held her father tight, hugging him with all her power. "I love you, munchkin."

Rachel let out a sad giggle, kissing her father's forehead as tears streamed down her cheeks. "I love you too, daddy." She felt Carole pulling her hand as they walked out of their hiding-place.

* * *

Rachel had been quiet the whole train ride. The only noise she made was her breathing, which was shallow and barely noticeable. Carole felt sorry for the girl; because she knew what it was like to have a war taking away the ones you loved. Christopher was killed in action, and even though Carole always felt proud for her husband to be a known National hero, he was still not there for her a night, he wasn't there anymore. He was _gone. _And even though Hiram was still alive, she knew Rachel was already preparing herself for the loss.

As Carole lurked for something in her purse, Rachel sighed, burying her eyes. _How long had she been sleeping awake? A long time now, _she decided, _three years of never ending sleep. _Emotional sleep. She wasn't a human anymore; humans were free, humans had a home, humans could _love. _She could barely feel if not the pain. She felt Carole hand touch her shoulder and snapped her head at the older woman, her puffy eyes staring at Carole blankly.

"Are you hungry, dear? I brought you something to eat. I hope you like cheese sandwiches." Carole smiled warmly and Rachel almost had the urge to smile back. If only, she knew how to smile right now. "I know you haven't been eating a lot because of…" Carole leaned in to whisper softly. "Because of the hiding and all. Here." Carole smiled, handing the girl the sandwich, which she silently took in hands, thanking Carole with a nod as she ate the piece of bread for her life.

* * *

Rachel and Carole sneaked through the gate at the back of the house silently. The house was very simple and rather small, compared to the other ones in the neighborhood. The gate was small and made of iron, almost completely ruined from all the strong rains that once fell on it. The garden was gray and all the small flowers creeping on the fences were dead. The walls which used to have paint were now a faded white.

As they entered the small home, Rachel's eyes looked up in nervousness as she heard footsteps approaching them. As Rachel looked up, her eyes lay on a boy with brownish eyes, messy thick hair and freckles all over his nose and cheeks, his height really did scare her. She looked almost breakable by the boy's side. Quickly, Carole ran towards him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Finn…" _So that was his name, _Rachel assumed as his eyes looked deeply into hers, looking for something and finding _nothing at all. _"This is the girl I told you about. Rachel, this is my son, Finn Hudson."

**A/N: What is bad, good? Should I continue? Review and let me know!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews!**

* * *

"Hello Finn Hudson." Rachel spoke, almost in a sober tone of pain, not even staring in his eyes anymore, too scared of being analyzed by another human being. She played with the hem of her short, old dress; her shoes that once were white and clean were now a dirty shade of gray, holes in a few bits of it. Her hair was greasy and she smelled like an animal, because to be honest, Rachel Berry _was _an animal. The Führer had taken her human rights too long ago. Her dignity. The will of living.

Carole noticed how tense the air was at the moment, so she lightly touched Rachel on her skinny left shoulder and offered the girl a weak smile. "I'll lead you downstairs, honey. I've already fixed you everything you'll need."

As Carole leaded Rachel downstairs towards her new, as she humorlessly liked to call, habitat, Rachel sighed. The basement's walls were a pale shade of gray, just like her old shoes and it seemed to be a place to keep the stuff no one wants anymore, the garbage.

_Perfect place for her, _Rachel thought to herself with another tired sigh, accompanying Carole's footsteps almost as if she was trying not to touch the ground, trying to be noticed. Trying not to exist.

Carole took the girl's hand softly, trying not to scare her, because honestly, being around Rachel at this point of her life was like hunting, if you got too close or made any strong noises, you'd scare her away. They walked towards a huge bookshelf, which Rachel found rather interesting, eyes widening quite a bit as Carole pushed the bookshelf away with all the strength she had, since apparently, Rachel was not strong enough for that, revealing a wooden door, scratches all over it. Carole smiled warmly at the girl, opening the door slightly as Rachel walked in the tiny, dark room. It had a little bed set on the corner of it, a lamp on the surface of a scratched little coffee table. It was decent, Rachel though. Way better than her previous accommodations. She couldn't complain. Carole looked over at the girl sympathetically, as if she was apologizing for only having that, but Rachel forced back a dry smile, nodding and pursing her lips, walking in the room and sitting on the bed, yawing. She hadn't had a good night sleep in three years now; she deserved this little break from the world. It was like dying, but peacefully. But again, dying right now would sound a lot better than the life she was leading. Watching Carole walk upstairs again, she sighed, closing the door and feeling the bookshelf being pushed over her door. This, this was her hiding place.

* * *

By this moment, Carole was washing the dishes slowly, looking up at her son who seemed pretty interested in a piece of meat that was still resting on his plate. Sighing, she swallowed and spoke softly.

"How was the food, honey?" She asked, looking at him with concern.

"Good." He simply replies, not bothering to look up at his mother.

"How is school going?" Carole tries, turning around so she could wash the dishes which were still a bit dirty.

"Good." He said, coldly. He wasn't even trying.

"And… How is Quinn?" The older woman asked, trying to make something out of this conversation, if this was in fact, one conversation. Finn shrugged.

"Good." Carole threw the plate harshly in the sink and turned around, facing him and supporting her hands on her hips, eyeing him with disappointment yet anger, barely seeing straight, her vision had turned red.

"Finn, it has been _years! Two _years! Get over it!" Carole said. "You father has passed away and ever since then, you haven't talked to me properly! But you know what, Finn? I need a son. I need someone to talk to me. I need someone to appreciate all the effort I put in this house. I need someone to tell me I'm beautiful even when I'm not. I need my family, Finn!" Carole spoke, looking at him with wide, tear filled eyes. Finn stood there, frozen. He wasn't expecting that. His mom was the strongest woman he had ever met in his life and there she was, tearing herself apart in front of him. Breathing and rubbing her wet eyes, she spoke. "I just love you, kid. You are mine, you know? Part of me. I've carried you in me for nine months, Finn. You are my son and I'm so proud of you. I was proud of you, until you decided to forget that you _are _in fact, my only family. I miss him as much as you do, honey, I loved your father _so _much. But I'm sure he's looking down at us and he is not happy with this situation. You are the man of the house now, Finn. Be my son and be the man." Carole sobbed in her son's arms as he held her tight. He was going to be the man of the house.

* * *

Rachel was curled up in her room, staring at the walls, because honestly, what else could she do? There was nothing to do in the room except feeling the pain of leaving her father behind. Carole was such a sweet woman and it only made Rachel feel worse as she realized she was putting Carole's life in danger. She was being a prisoner of her own life, she decided with a sad frown.

The girl was pulled out from her thoughts as she heard the bookshelf outside being pushed aside, quickly getting on her knees and gasping desperately. This wasn't the time of the day for lunch, was it? It wasn't, she had lunch two hours ago. It wasn't time for her daily bath either. Quickly, the girl hid under the squeaky bed in fear, her breathing caught in her throat along with her heart. She was shaking from her head to toe. Someone had found her. Watching as a pair of big manly shoes walked in the place, she bit her lip from avoid the trembling sighs wanting to escape her mouth. Was this it? Was she going to die?

* * *

After lunch, Finn's mom had told him to clean the front door, which was usually marked with dark drawings coal. After he had that done, he asked her about Rachel. His mom shrugged, taking a sip of her tea.

"Her father used to be a very respectful merchant, Hiram Berry. He served on the war with your father. You know, he was the one your father always talked about." Finn frowned. "Oh, come on Finn! Don't you remember? Your father had gone to his first war and they were both protecting the camp, but it was your father's turn to watch as Hiram had a nap. But your father was just as tired, so he ended up snoozing for a bit, and next thing he knew, the enemy was on top of him, ready to cut his throat but Hiram woke up with the noise of your father chocking and shot the guy – bam – straight on the back!" Carole said, feeling a bit of nostalgia hitting her. Sighing, she smiled. "Your father owed him his life so when I found out about the Jewish people situation, I couldn't help but to contact him before the worse happened." She smiled. Finn nodded. He understood now. Sort of.

* * *

Finn frowned as he opened Rachel's bedroom door. She wasn't there. She wasn't there. Where had she gone? Examining the room carefully, he could hear something – or better, someone – letting out squeaky breaths.

"Rachel?" He asked softly, getting on his knees and looking at her from the outside of the bed. "It's me, Finn." He told her quietly. She looked like a scared animal. He wondered how people could live with themselves knowing they had made another human being get to this, hiding for their lives. Rachel dragged herself from the floor, sitting on the bed and resting her legs in front of her, pulling her knees towards her chest, pressing it against her body as if she was protecting herself. She looked at him up and down and he smiled softly.

"Next time, try behind the little coffee table." He said with a smile, trying to get one out of her. Nothing. "I brought you something." He spoke quietly before he said anything even more stupid and she tried to beat him out of the room. "I've noticed you don't have much to do here in this room… It's so small and I know it can get lonely so…" He pursed his lips, reaching out for something hidden behind his back and placing it by her side on the bed. Her eyes were slowly dragging down from her lap to the object placed by her side now. _A book. _

"Why are you giving me this?" She choked out, barely a whisper as she touched the surface shyly. The cover of the book said _'Wuthering Heights', _some sort of classic as far as she was concerned. She always pleaded her daddy to buy it for her, but he was always telling her that those books made a teenage girl too romantic.

He shrugged. "The school wanted us to read it for a project or something..." He said flatly. "But apparently, my book is not the new censored edition or something like that and since I am not going to read this old one… I figured you'd need something to do." He smiled.

"That's… That's very thoughtful." She told him quietly, he replied with a smile that made her want to smile back. Almost.

"I have more books upstairs… If you want." He offered. "I don't read much… My reading is not the best, so I highly doubt I'll need those in my life. All I have to do is school is cheat on some tests and do some sports and everyone worships me." He shrugged sadly and this time, he was the one to force a smile.

"You can't read?" She frowned, taking the book and placing it on her lap.

"I can… But badly. I mean, I can draw words and stuff but… But it's not the same. My father died when it was time for learning how to write and read, so my mom wouldn't leave the house for like, one year and I ended up skipping some important lessons, but since I was too old to be in a little kid's class, they arranged me to learn how to read at home and now I can arrange myself with words fine enough." He said sadly. Hearing his mother's voice coming from upstairs, he got up and smiled softly at her. "That's my cue. Anyways, I hope I don't scary you like that anymore, that sucked, huh?" He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, walking towards the door. "I uh… I'm gonna go. Enjoy the book!" He smiled, walking off and closing the door behind him. As she heard the bookshelf being pushed back to her previous place, Rachel bit her lip, looking at the door in a gaze.

"Thank you."

**A/N: Thoughts?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! I hope you like this chapter.**

* * *

"How was your day?" The blonde asks, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Quinn Fabray was her name. The most popular girl in school, the most _beautiful_girl in school. Her family was utterly respected in their community, after all, her father took care of one of the most important concentration camps yet and her mother was a feverish Catholic woman, always frequenting the church, dragging both of her daughters with her. Quinn wore a golden cross on her silky neck, because she believed in the love Jesus Christ could offer us all and save us. She believed in that. Poor silly Quinn, they said.

Quinn was also Finn Hudson's girlfriend. She never got along with his mom, Carole, to be quite honest. His mother was one to always support equal rights between Jewish people and the _real__people,_something Quinn and her family were always so strongly against. Quinn never had an opinion about the subject, to be honest. She was like their puppet. She only went along with what her daddy said. Finn lay on her living room couch as she went through the bible a couple of times, smiling over at him and asking him about his day. Finn gulped.

Could he tell her about Rachel? _Oh,__my__day__was__lovely__and__by__the__way?__I__'__m__hiding__a__Jewish__girl__in__my__basement,__but__what__'__s__going__on__with__you?_That surely wouldn't end up well. Instead, he nodded, faking a smile.

"We didn't do much in class today." He shrugged the lies off his shoulders. "The teacher said my reading is getting better, though. I'm actually being able to read _three_full pages without missing a letter or making a mispronunciation. I think that's gotta be something." He smiled proudly. He was never able to keep up with everyone on his age on the letters, but he worked so hard, he truly deserved some recognition.

But instead of recognition, Quinn gave his shoulder a light pat and smiled over at him.

"You know what would really help you, Finn? _The__church._" She began and Finn fought for everything he had not to let out a groan. "It's so terrific, Finn! It's a sanctuary. It's always there to make you feel safe, at home, you see? You should join me some time." She took his hand and squeezed it lightly.

He didn't squeeze back.

* * *

Rachel was reading the book. She read it as she woke up, she read it waiting for lunch, she read it before lunch, she read it _for__her__life;_because somehow, in the twisted mind of Rachel Berry, the hiding Jewish _rat,_reading those books, _escaping_from reality would be better than live the life she was leading. She was truly thankful Finn had given her the book.

It was a cold winter afternoon, so Rachel was crawled up with two blankets covering her feet and lap as she ran her fingers through the pages of the book, eating, _consuming_every word carefully, and trying not to miss them, memorizing each word in her mind, playing the scenes of the book much easier in her head.

She could hear the bookshelf being pushed to the side and she stood on her feet, alert to every movement that was bound to happen in her safe place. Hidden behind the coffee table, she waited for the next move to come, gigantic feet stepping through the door. _Finn._

The young man carried a large plate of food, beans, rice, eggs and carrots on it, filling the plate. Rachel was thankful Carole was always thoughtful enough to make her a separate food plate and not just give her the left overs like some would do to her people. The woman took good care of her, like her mother never did.

Finn frowned, his eyes not quite reaching Rachel's tiny frame along the room. She was getting better at her hiding, he figured. Slowly, a figure moved from behind the coffee table and he smiled. He remembered when he had mentioned her it would be best if she hid behind it and apparently, she remembered.

"Hey." He said softly, watching her drag herself to her bed, sitting on her knees and smoothing her skirt, which was actually an old one from his mom's closet, but whatever. "I brought you some lunch." She nodded as he leaned in and handed her the plate, which she took wholeheartedly and began devouring it like a starving animal. Fin watched with eyes wide. Hunger did stuff to people. It turned them into animals, he assumed.

Noticing he was still there, she stopped eating, cleaning the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand and eyeing him curiously. She had pretty eyes. They were warm, sad, but still, needed for love, for carrying, they were hopeless. Finn choked on his breath and sighed.

"My mom says I have to take the dishes back upstairs, so I'll have to wait for you to finish." He explained himself, looking at the floor.

"You don't have to explain yourself." She said softly, taking another full spoon of her rice, eating it almost with utter pleasure. Finn looked up in shock. It was the first time she had actually said a full sentence to him, even so softly. "I feel lonely here. I appreciate your company." She admitted, looking at the blank walls and he could feel how cold, how lifeless her spirit was. Finn nodded slightly.

"You don't need to feel lonely anymore." He told her, looking over at her and smiling warmly. "I'll be here."

And he meant it. Every word of it.

* * *

As Rachel finished her food, she handed Finn the plate, lightly bumping her hand against his, blushing deeply as she did so, looking away. Finn's eyes were glued on the plate because apparently, he claimed if he broke it, his mother would kill him. Rachel maybe would like to break the plate, just so she could finally get her deserved release. But she didn't. Instead, she looked in Finn's eyes and saw it.

She saw a human. For the first time since this whole thing began, she saw a human in someone's eyes other than her father's. She wondered how incredibly sweet and thoughtful someone could be, considering all the drama he had been through. He made him want to get over this whole thing and move on with her life. He made him want to recover. To want to live.

He was such a beautiful human being. He was beautiful. His hands were rough, just like the lines on his face, for someone so young, he sure looked like he had lived a lot. Like her. They were equal. He had freckles all over his nose and cheeks, his rosy lips were full and his smile was heartwarming. She sighed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She had never been nervous around anyone before.

Finn cleared his throat; snapping Rachel back from her train of thought and making her drag her eyes up at his. Finally, he was able to look at her in the eye. Sighing, he started getting up, a shy smile on his lips.

"I gotta go now." He nodded towards the plate. "Mom needs my help washing the dishes." He began, making her look down sadly. Was he leaving already? She sighed; the thought of being alone again didn't really do much for her. She was scared. She didn't want to be left alone. Especially if being alone meant getting caught and being dragged to those _horrible_ camps. She wouldn't want that even to her worst enemy. Why would another human being do that to their brother and sister? Weren't human rights worth something?

Nodding slightly, Rachel dragged her dead eyes down so they would stare at the floor, after all, she wouldn't be able to watch him leave her, watching herself drifting into loneliness again. Finn frowned at the way her face fell – even more so – as he mentioned he was leaving. Finn tentatively reached our for her, his cold yet friendly hand bumping lightly against her shoulder, resting on top of it with clear nervousness as he dragged his eyes up so once again, he could meet hers and he could have sworn that time, she actually allowed him to _see_something in them.

"I'll- I'll bring you dinner later, if you'd like?" He smiled weakly, almost squeezing her shoulder in comfort as she bit her lip, a broken tentative of a smile creeping on her lips as she met his gaze, her cheeks gaining color.

"T-that would be lovely."

* * *

"Fifty one, fifty two, fifty five, fifty six! Come on, four more to go!" The man's dark voice could be heard, demanding and rough. The green, cold eyes went through the field and examined every piece of it and from afar, Finn could hear the man's gnashing of teeth, the noise almost as annoying as nails scratching the board. The boy's hazel eyes looked up and as the green clashed against the brown, Finn quickly looked away, scared of making any sort of contact with that man. But wasn't their lives all based on that now? _Being__scared?_

His mind quickly went to Rachel. The way she always seemed to force a smile, a broken, yellow smile. How could someone be _so_messed up that they lost the ability to smile? No one deserved that. He knew that if he managed to rip a smile off Rachel's lips, he would manage to light up the world with it. He was sure that her smile would be the most beautiful thing in the world… Not that he had seen it yet.

"Hudson!" Finn quickly snapped out of his thoughts as his name was called, his eyes swiftly looking up in fear. He knew that Mr. Schuester could _smell_the fear. The cruel green eyes stared at him with anger. "Why did you stop counting? Fifty more push-ups for you!" He pointed at Finn with anger in his voice, the boy's eyes on the ground, his shoulders heavy with humiliation.

* * *

Carole Hudson anxiously waited for her son on their front gate, eyes filled with concern as she twisted her apron again and again nervously on her hands. She hadn't heard from him and he was supposed to be home two hours ago. She wondered if he got in trouble at school, _again,_that is.

As she noticed a tall figure walking at the end of the street, she gasped, _finally,__her__boy__was__home!_Carole didn't think twice before running down the street and throwing herself in her son's arms, making him stumble lightly and hold on her tightly with a groan of pain. Finally, once his mother pulled away, she could examine his face under the sunlight, gasping at her son's face.

Finn's face was bruised: his lower lip was swollen and open, bleeding a little – but not as much as the corner of his left eye, which seemed to be beaten up with rocks, his face covered completely by scratches and his eyes were _black,_fists marks all over his jawline and some of his neck. Carole ran her fingertips softly on the bruised skin, making Finn wince in pain, her hand pulling away almost instantly. As she didn't want to make him feel any more pain, she pulled him by the hand and guided him inside their small house, ignoring all the glares from the neighbors.

She sat her son calmly on the wooden chair in the middle of the kitchen, heading towards the sink and soaking an old towel with hot water, her shaky hands not agreeing with her face, which seemed solid and strong as a rock. She turned off the water tap and walked towards Finn, his leg shaking nervously and his hands not calming down on the surface of the table, tapping on it slowly. His mother pressed the hot, wet fabric against his face, sighing as he pulled away lightly, not caring for the contact between his face and the hot towel. He bit his lip and slowly leaned closer to her, allowing her to touch his face like a scary child as she rubbed his cuts slowly, looking for any sign of pain on his eyes.

"What happened?" She asked once she had finished with Finn's face, washing the blood away from the towel in the sink. Finn looked at his feet, swallowing hard, suddenly feeling knots on his stomach.

"S-some jerks at school… It was no big deal, mom." He whispered, eyes glued on his shoes which seemed way more interesting for him than anything else at the moment. His mother shook her head and sighed, caressing her son's face slowly.

"You know that's not it, Finn." She kissed his forehead. "Was it a girl? Were you fighting over a girl? Was it because of the boxing?" She asked in a low voice, careful. She doesn't want to scare him away.

"No, leave me alone, please." He whispered.

"Finn-"

"They beat me, okay?" He shouted, getting off the chair and knocking it on the floor, throwing himself on the couch and hiding his face in his hands. "I had to stay after practice, Mr. Schuester said I had to work on my running a little more, so I did and then… Then these guys kept watching me on the bleachers through the whole practice and when Mr. Schuester left, they got off the bleachers and headed towards the showers with me… So I ignored them. When I was taking the shower, one of them came up behind me and kicked me in the back and then I fell on the floor – mom, it was _so__cold,__so__cold_– and then he began yelling at me, _you,__you__think__the__Jews__are__people,__huh__Hudson?__You__and__your__mommy__are__friends__with__the__Jews__huh?__Thank-__Thank__God__your__dad__is__dead__so__he__doesn__'__t__have__to__be__ashamed__of__you__and__that__slut__you__call__a__mom!_ He was yelling mom, yelling and then his friends kicked me some more and one of them just punched my face and next thing I know, I blacked out. I felt so useless mom. So fucking useless." He whispered, rubbing his forehead lightly, letting the tears fall free from his eyes, the hot water crashing against the feeling of his cuts.

His mom sat on his side, wrapping her arms around him shakily and rubbing his arms back and forth. _My__baby,__my__poor__baby_she whispered. He cried on her shoulder and he remembered the time his daddy died at war. He was going to make him proud, he thought. For him and for his mother.

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**A/N: Review, please! Until next time!**


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